An End Too Soon
by Miss. Kitty Fantastico
Summary: My version of the season finale of Angel with my character Zoey. There's also Doyle in it too! This is the best I've written so far, so please review it!


~*~  
  
The windows cast no reflection as I walked past the blank doors in the Los Angeles office building. Bypassing the elevator out of habit (due to the memory of a bad elevator experience), I walked nimbly up the stairs, grinning as my silver Gucci sandals created no echo in the metal stairwell. Shifting my bag on my shoulder slightly, I neared my brother's office, which had the simple title "Angel Investigations" blazed on the doorway.  
  
Strangely, I could hear voices coming from behind the door that didn't belong to my co-workers. I slid the door open silently and stepped into the foyer to the sound of an unfamiliar voice saying, "I mean, one could walk right through that door."  
  
"Zoey's back," Doyle commented with interest, noticing my presence. The occupants of the "main" room looked up. Ah, it was good to be back home amongst my crowd of employees and family.  
  
Cordelia slumped back into the (ugly, I've always said) couch she was leaning on and snorted with laughter at what I could only guess was an inside joke. "Go figure." She turned to the man sitting next to her; a wimpy looking guy in a very shiny purple cloak. "Don't say something like that," she informed him solemnly. "Something worse might happen."  
  
I stared at the new guy, running through a list of possible reasons for his presence in my mind. He was definitely client material...no, Angel probably wouldn't have brought him here as a present to me. He's not that thoughtful.   
  
Then I noticed the wimp carried a scepter. Interesting. "I don't know you, do I?"  
  
Despite my lack of knowledge about this man, Cordy had apparently already met his acquaintance. "Zoey, this is David. David, this is Zoey. Another member of our little group."  
  
"Hi," David said passively, raising his hand in a small waving motion. God, he was pathetic.  
  
I met his utterly devoid of thought gaze and turned back to Cordy, shuddering. It was an improvement, at least. Cordelia decided to explain the introduction in more detail. "David here is like the demonic form of Bill Gates," she said proudly. Money counts for a lot with Cordelia.  
  
"He's a demon? He doesn't smell demonic," I stated.  
  
"Hey, demons don't smell," Doyle said. Everyone in the room gave him a patented 'what are you, an idiot?' look. "Well, for the most part, anyway."  
  
"I...I know about demons and stuff," David said.  
  
I studied his outfit for a second, not allowing myself to be mesmerized by the swirling colors. It was a very shiny cloak... "Lemme guess. You play Dungeons and Dragons, don't you?"  
  
David shifted almost uncomfortably on the couch, then seemed (inexplicably) to draw courage from the axe my brother was holding lightly in his hand. He brightened like a kid at Christmas. "Yeah, tonight I get to be the gnome king. Do you like my outfit?"  
  
Well... "Very convincing."  
  
There were a few moments of silence that filled the room. I glanced down at my nails, beginning to get bored. Okay, so this guy wasn't very good company. Doyle was fiddling with a stapler and Cordy was absently twirling one strand of brown hair around her finger. Angel was trying to look passively interested. Apparently David hadn't used his money to buy himself social skills. Oh look, the paint on the wall was chipping...  
  
"Well, it's been nice. Bye."  
  
You could practically hear the sigh of relief that everyone emitted as David stood up abruptly. Cordelia, surprisingly, made one last attempt at conversation. "Bye, David!"  
  
I waited until the door had shut and he had safely exited the office. Still hearing his fading footsteps down the hallway, I said to Angel, "Seems a nice guy."  
  
"We can now say we keep in touch wit' our clients," Doyle said as he hopped down off the desk and held the door open as everyone filed into Angel's private office.  
  
I threw my bag on the floor and sprawled out in Angel's chair, amusing myself by twirling it ever so slightly and laughing at the look of annoyance on my big brother's face as he took another seat (which happened to be Doyle's, so Doyle took Cordy's. Cordy sat on the desk, leaning over my head to do her hunt-and-peck typing on the computer.). Angel fixed me with his patented broody glare and I went back to my nails again.  
  
"So, Zoey, how was Sunnydale?" he asked, making me feel like I should be in an interrogation room under a big white light. I sighed in annoyance. Angel seems to feel like he has to drill every bit of information out of me every time I come back from a 'mission'. Personally, I just think he wants to hear about Buffy.  
  
"Oh, it was interesting," I said lightly. "There was a guy named Adam that was made out of demon parts and he tried to create a race of human/demon hybrids...(That earned a "That's creative," from Doyle.)...using doctors he killed and then reanimated. And I've got to say he's not that good in the reanimation business. But that doesn't matter, because as always Buffy kicked his ass and saved the day. Only it was really cool; she did this magic 'The Matrix' kind of thing."  
  
"The Matrix? Now there's a good movie," Doyle said lazily as he leaned back in Cordy's chair.  
  
"Wasn't Keanu in it?" Cordy asked as she stared into the computer screen. I scooted my chair over so she could have more room; I was starting to get a cramp.  
  
Angel, however, was not interested in Buffy's special-magical-effects. He intensified his broody glare into the 'Uh oh, what did I screw up this time' glare.  
  
"What did I do this time?" I asked defensively. After all, I'd done what he sent me out to do, hadn't I? Well, I wasn't supposed to be getting involved with Buffy's projects, something about she and Angel keeping off each other's turf for a while, but still! "It's not my fault if the Scooby Gang asked me to help them with their pyseudo-Frankenstein guy."  
  
"But it is your fault for eating people I'm trying to save. You got a little...," Angel gestured at my chin.  
  
"Damn!" I said, quickly wiping the remains of my last meal off my face. "Do you think the David guy noticed?" Angel rolled his eyes at that. I looked down at the cluttered desk in front of me, my eyes falling on a heap of papers that looked like the water stains on them had come from Noah's Flood. "What are these; a new project?"  
  
"Funny you should ask," Doyle said, standing up and walking over to peer over my other shoulder (Cordy had taken my right) at them. "It's a prophecy. Our very own Dark Avenger's the main attraction."  
  
"Now how did I guess?" I murmured sarcastically, smiling at Angel.  
  
"Doyle!" Cordelia yelped triumphantly from the computer. "I think I found your word!"  
  
I had no idea what that meant, but Doyle obviously did. He was at Cordy's side in an instant, peering into the screen. I looked over to see what was so interesting.  
  
"Shanshu?" I asked, confused.  
  
Doyle's eyes brightened as they flickered over the page, almost a psychedelic blue in the glow of the screen. "We've been tryin' t' translate this thing for days. Most of it I've worked out, but this one word, shanshu...oh God," he said suddenly, stopping in mid-sentence. His eyes flickered from the screen to the papers to the screen to my brother. "Angel...shanshu means death. This thing says you're gonna...die."  
  
I stared around the room in denial. "It's gotta be a misprint or something," I said flatly, not even allowing myself the glimmer of an idea that it might be true. "Angel can't die. I mean, he's Angel - the Dark Avenger, protector of the innocent, blah blah blah. Only the bad guys are supposed to die. Not Angel."  
  
"Yeah," Cordy said, agreeing so quickly I knew she was facing the same idea as me. Life without Angel? It was almost unthinkable! "Doyle, go talk to the Oracles. Tell 'em to...they sent the wrong prophecy."  
  
"It's probably a misunderstandin'," Doyle said. "The translation could be wrong, y'know...," His voice trailed off. There was silence and one by one, we all stared at Angel.  
  
He was reading a book.  
  
"Angel, man, are you gettin' this?" Doyle asked suspicially. "You're gonna die!"  
  
"Okay, so I know you're not supposed to care," I said, my voice raising an octave or two. "But you're not even caring that you don't care!"  
  
Angel looked up at us from over the cover with a look of blatant disinterest on his face. "We all have to die sometime, don't we?" he asked rhetorically.  
  
"Well, yeah, but shouldn't you be calling everyone that you know and telling them you love 'em and all that?" Cordelia asked. "I mean, hello?! Death, here!"  
  
"It's not that big of a deal," Angel said with raised eyebrows at his ditzy secretary. "I've lived well over the amount of time that people should be allotted. It's okay."  
  
Suddenly Doyle jerked and clutched his head. I jumped out of the chair quickly as he fell into it, shuddering violently. After a few minutes of us standing around watching this episode helplessly as usual, he looked up.  
  
"What did you see?" Angel asked quickly, as Cordy handed Doyle a bottle of Aspirin.  
  
"Demon. Slime...demon. An' a homeless woman with a bag on her head. It's behind the plastic factory, at the corner of Striton and 23rd," he managed to gasp out. "Ouch."  
  
"I'll go," I volunteered, practically halfway out the door. Angel put down his book and moved quickly to block my path, leaving me staring at his large black shirt.  
  
"No, I'll go," he asserted. "Zoey, you stay here and help decipher the scroll; you're good at foreign languages." Grabbing his duster, he slipped out of the room before I had a chance to protest.  
  
I stared after him in a huff. Angel always gets to do the big bad demon cases. It's just Angel, Angel, Angel. Arg.  
  
Doyle and Cordy followed us out of the room into the foyer where I now stood. "Okay, that wasn't natural," Cordelia said. "People are supposed to get upset when they hear they're about to die."  
  
"It doesn't matter t' him," Doyle said. "There's nothin' here that he wants, nothin' t' keep him interested in this world. He's hardly human."  
  
"What do you mean, he's hardly human? How does that fit in here" I asked. I reached inside the white box on the table next to me and pulled out a chocolate covered doughnut. Suddenly, before I had a chance to eat it it was snatched from my hand. "Hey, that was mine!!!" I yelled to Doyle who now held it tantalizingly in front of me.  
  
"It's like this. Pretend Zoey's human. She wants to eat the doughnut - "  
  
"You bet I do, now give it back!" I yelled.  
  
"It's Zoey's desire to have this doughnut that makes her human. It makes her alive. Angel doesn't want anything, therefore he has no reason t' live," Doyle explained, talking as though the whole theory was perfectly logical and easy to understand.  
  
Seeing as how the whole thing was over my head, the fact that I wanted my doughnut back wasn't endearing me to the idea. I put on my game face and growled. "You'll have no reason to live if you don't hand over that doughnut," I threatened.  
  
Doyle gave me back my doughnut.  
  
"Well, we can make him want stuff, can't we?" Cordelia asked. "I mean, this is sad! What kind of a life can an immortal guy live if all he wants to do is die?" She got her pity look on her face and I had to agree. Not having any conviction in life is worse than going through a mid-life crisis. We couldn't let that happen; Angel's bad enough as it is!  
  
"Well, we'll make him want something. Hey, I bet a hobby would help," I suggested brightly. "Everybody needs a hobby."  
  
"I don't think killing evil demons counts," Doyle said.  
  
"Don't be an idiot," Cordelia said, thwapping him across the shoulder. "A hobby is a great idea. Or how about...I know; a pet!"  
  
"I don't think animals are all that great around vampires," Doyle said, leaning on the doorway.  
  
"Stop being an idea-squasher," I said absently as I stuffed the rest of the doughnut in my mouth. "What about Sea Monkeys? They're not animals....I think." There was the sound of a door opening and closing and we all turned to face the main entrance. "Angel's back," I said obviously.  
  
While Doyle and I took our time, going for nonchalance rather than risk giving the scheme away, Cordelia rushed to greet Angel as he walked in the door. "Hey, Angel, that was quick," she said. "Want a doughnut?" She sent me a look that said, 'let's start small'.  
  
"No thanks," he said as he hung his coat on the coat hanger, not taking the bait.  
  
"We have chocolate and jelly filled," I said in a tantalizing voice, trying to get Angel to say yes to something. "Strawberry filling, my...I mean your favorite!"  
  
"No. I'm fine."  
  
"How about a pet?" Cordelia tried again, rather bluntly.  
  
"Like Sea Monkeys. They wouldn't even know you're a vamp!" Doyle offered.  
  
"No."  
  
"Plants!" I said, clapping my hands together. "They'd brighten up the office. It'd be good for business!  
  
"We can do low matinencs plants - like cactus or fichus," Cordy said. "I read that talking to plants really helps psychologically...."  
  
"Guys, I don't want anything," Angel said in an irritated voice. The three of us stared at one another; Cordelia whimpered and quickly left the room. Angel stared after her, confused.  
  
I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off. "Zoey, I want you to do me a favor. Kate...Detective Kate....is being a bit nosy where she shouldn't be. If you could keep an eye out for her; keep her out of my hair, it would be a big help. Okay?"  
  
"Me?" I protested. It's not that I didn't like the idea of Angel not liking Kate; I loved it, but I didn't want to have to spend time around her myself! "Why not...Doyle?"  
  
"Because Doyle is going to the Ancient Eye to do more work on that scroll," Doyle said, answering me in third person. He exchanged a glance with Angel as he pulled on his ugly jacket and Greek-tragedy hat and walked out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
I walked down one of the many populated sidewalks in LA, keeping a firm watch on the blonde haired woman 10 feet in front of me. Kate, GOD, I hate that woman. Always blaming Angel and I for HER problems. Lets look at some examples, shall we? Kate's dad dies, Kate blames Angel because "His kind" as she says killed him. Apparently someone hasn't gone to their sensitivity classes...especially the ones on racism.  
  
I sighed to myself, and looked at my stomach" God, I'm so hungry."  
  
Angel wouldn't mind if...yeah, I guess he would. But if he's dead, then he wouldn't even know, yeah that could work, just let the prophecy run it's course. But what if his spirit comes back to haunt me like those dumb fairy tails? Ghostbusters? Wait, I'm supposed to watch Kate, and Kate is...somewhere, I'm sure of that. Oh, there she is.  
  
I stopped quickly. Once again the ever so helpful Slayer and vamp senses instantly picked up that someone had started to follow me. Had Spike paid a visit to LA? No, I could smell his foul odor two miles away. Why couldn't Doyle had kept me company? I hate being alone, it's so...alone. I would have even put up with his Greek-Tragedy hat.  
  
Something quickly passed me, a black blur of something like from a clock-or trench coat. I turned to see what it was, eager to beat the crap out of whatever it was. I haven't killed anything purposeful for almost two weeks. Purposeful, as what I am supposed to kill.   
  
I turned my head, hands already in a fighting stance. But, nothing was there. Just a few people; nobody wearing a cape or trench coat.  
  
My brief stop had caused me to lose track of the detective and I ran ahead to keep her in my range of sight. Suddenly my foot caught on something and I fell forward. After regaining my balance, I walked on.  
  
Things like tripping don't happen to vampires...and yet here I was, becoming a klutz with fangs. Damn, how embarrassing. Looking over the crowd of people, I spotted a head of blonde hair. Good, I hadn't lost her..yet.   
  
The eerie feeling that someone was watching me returned, and angry that it had made me look like an idiot last time I turned around quickly, becoming just a blur to the human eye.  
  
And yet again, nothing, nada, zip. Oh, this is becoming so cliché, girl senses stalker, girl turns around, stalker gone. All the same with every case.   
  
I walked in a huff; people could just see the steam pouring out of my ears from the frustration of my "Phantom Stalker". I stopped abruptly again, scanning the area for anything that could have been my "Phantom stalker" Another blur raced by me for the second time, at the same time I felt a small pinch on my hand. I looked down at my hand to see what had happened, but my vision started to blur.  
  
The city lights began to brighten and fuzz into one big glob of brightness. There was a slight tingling sensation in my legs, as I looked downward, my forehead broke out in sweat. The tingling sensation left my legs, and my legs then became numb.   
  
" Damn." I said as I collapsed on the cement sidewalk, my legs becoming useless.   
  
Although I was covered head-to-toe in sweat, I shivered violently. My eyes burned, and left their duty of sight. I looked up, only able to see the blurred shapes of people who began to crowd around me.   
  
What was happening to me?  
  
Suddenly icy fingers touched my burning flesh, and I curled into a small ball, away from the cold. The icy fingers turned into icy hands, lifting me off the sidewalk and cradling me in their arms as they ran.  
  
My head pounded in a rhythmical pattern as the person who held me thudded their feet on the pavement. Ever muscle and bone in my body ached with enormous pain, " Let me go." I said tiredly, my eyes burning with more intense pain as I closed them.  
  
" Shh." The voice of the figure said calmly, picking up more speed.  
  
I looked up at the figure, blinking through my poor vision. I instantly recognized who was carrying me. The grim, square face, the brown, spiked hair that was in a perfect line with his forehead, "Angel?" I asked.   
  
" Shh, Zoey you'll be alright." Angel comforted, turning a corner and continuing to run.  
  
Where were we going? Why had Angel been right there to aide me? Why was this happening to me? I thought vampires couldn't get sick...so why me? These questions flashed through my mind, as one final disturbing fact made me shiver even more and sink farther into the billowing sleeves of Angel's jacket as I drifted off into a troubled sleep: Angel had sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me...  
  
~*~  
  
Third POV  
  
  
  
Doyle set down the tower of musty aged books with a sigh of relief. He looked at each of their covers with only little interest. " An' now on t' some a' that researching" He said to no one in particular.  
  
He opened a book covered in red leather, the words " Prophesies and their Meanings" etched into the leather. A brown cloud of dust billowed from the aged book, and Doyle dogged it.   
  
The dust settled and Doyle started reading the ancient Latin text, when he felt a light sneeze coming on. He tried his best to hold his breath but," Achoo!" Doyle's face contorted and he showed his demon side.   
  
Deeply embarrassed and ashamed, he shook his head violently and returned back to "normal". Deciding that maybe researching might not be the best thing to do at the time, he looked longingly through the window at the discount liquor store that seemed to taunt him from across the street.  
  
He looked back at the book, then back out the window, book, window, book, window, book... His bad habits got the best of him, and he walked out of the Ancient eye.   
  
Doyle opened the door to the liquor store, but something made him stop and turn to look down the street. On the street was a street vender bearing a sign that read " Art Supplies up to 50% off!"   
  
The half-demon's mind instantly flashed back to the conversation he, Zoey and Cordy had had about Angel having a hobby. Art supplies=hobby, hobby=Angel wanting things, Angel wanting things= Angel not wanting to die was the connection Doyle made as he skipped his weekly Billy Dee and walked towards the street vender.  
  
" How may I help you sir?" The vender said, suddenly perky due to her new costumer.  
  
" I've got a friend, an' he's a hav'n some social issues-not the most out there one with the public person. I was think'n that art might be th' answer." Doyle said informality, looking at the array of brushes and special pencils.  
  
" Well, you've come to the right place. Art is great tool for getting people back on their feet. In mental institutions they give patients some clay to work with-" the vender woman explained.  
  
Doyle wasn't listening, he was too busy looking at the merchandise the thought That's cheap...productive too crossed his mind many times. The lady was talking some gibberish about what people like Angel do, suddenly the words " Mental institution" reached his ears. " Oh, he's not crazy o' anything, just a li'le reclusive when it comes to socialization, if you know what I mean."  
  
" I know exactly what you mean," The vender smiled," He needs to exspress himself more, doesn't he? How about some of these charcoal pencils... "  
  
  
Five minuets later, Doyle carried two huge shopping bags, one in each hand; each bursting with art supplies. He walked down the sidewalk towards Angel's apartment. Knowing that Angel had gone out to watch Zoey so she wouldn't exercise her vampirism; he would have plenty of time to share his new purchases with Cordelia.   
  
Oh no, I feel like Cordelia Doyle realized as he tried his best to squeeze through the crowd with his shopping bags. A black blur past him quickly, and Doyle looked to see what it was...which was nothing. Passing it off as street kids, he continued walking.  
  
Flash-  
  
A middle-aged man clutched his two children as a fire blazed through their house. Burnt wooden boards fell from the ceiling, immobilizing the trio from escape.  
  
The scene suddenly changed, and there was a large street sign that read Park Avenue. The scene changed once more to the outside of the burning house, everything went out of focus except for a mailbox in the front yard that read 676.  
  
Flash-  
  
Recovering from his vision, Doyle slumped on a brick wall. He pulled out a small notepad, which he kept for such occasions. Oh, Angel is going to love this one He thought, reaching in one of the shopping bags and pulling out a charcoal pencil.  
  
He scribbled down the address and a one-word description of the vision, before heading back to Angel's apartment. Now he actually had a purpose to go there, people in peril, it was right up Angel's ally. Doyle began to dart in and out of people; weaving his way through traffic- he was a demon with a cause.  
  
Flash-   
  
  
Two frat guys drew a large pentagram on a wooden floor as another chanted from a leather bound book. The pentagram glowed an eerie blue, and the outside circle of the pentagram erupted in flame.   
  
  
Flash-  
  
  
" Good God." Doyle said, amazed. Two visions, and less than two minuets apart. He didn't think it was even possible for that to happen to see-ers.   
  
He stumbled across the sidewalk, dizzy from the mind numbing prophecies. Doyle needed an aspirin...badly.  
  
Flash-  
  
A small eight-year-old boy ran down an alleyway, covering his demonic facial features. He turned, and looked behind him-there was a flash of leather pants and a long bladed knife that shined in the moonlight, making it appear even sharper. The demonic child came to the dead end of the ally and turned to face his pursuer.  
  
Flash-   
  
Doyle gasped out, and fell to the ground, head pounding like a sledgehammer. The shopping bags also hit the ground, spilling their contents over the sidewalk and street; pencils and brushes rolled into the street, and cars swerved out of the way to dodge them.  
  
Flash-  
  
  
A crowd of vampires formed into one large circle in the underground sewers. In the center were four vamps dressed in black hooded robes, chanting in Latin.  
  
Flash-  
  
Two teenage girls huddled close to each other in fright. They looked up innocently at a slimy horned demon that was cornering them against a wall. One of the girls mumbled involuntarily, as the other screamed at the top of her lungs.  
  
  
Flash-  
  
Vision after vision, it became never ending. Doyle screamed out in blinding pain and clutched his head as the images of people's despair became never-ending.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Zoey's POV  
  
  
  
I opened my eyes slowly and cautiously. Blinking several times, my vision became clear once again. I scanned my new surroundings; I was lying on my back on a bed, white sheets covered me up to my waist. Looking around the room, I noticed that the walls were white as well. Suddenly, I felt a hand slide into mine and grip it. Turning my head, I looked to see who it was. " Angel?" He sat on a small stool by my bed, gripping my hand, instantly taking the role of big brother. " What're doing here?"  
  
" Don't worry about that now." He replied calmly. He reached down towards the floor and came back up with a cup filled with red liquid. " I brought you something to eat, it's fresh."  
  
I turned my head the other way on the pillow and glanced out the window filled with the city lights of LA. " I'm not hungry." I responded quietly. I bet it amazed him more than me; me, Zoey, vampire with the never ending stomach, killing and eating till no end. And now, I couldn't even think about eating.  
  
" Common Zoey." Angel agreed with me as well, trying to bring a little humor into the room. " You're always hungry, and this time I'm even encouraging you-"  
  
I cut him off by turning my head and facing him again," Angel, what's wrong with me?" I said simply.   
  
He looked down to the ground, and faced me with a pained look drawn on his features. " You have..." He took in a deep breath, not wanting to explain it," You have a...sickness, that is...similar to what I had in Sunnydale"  
  
" You mean I was poisoned?" I asked, remembering when Angel had gotten poisoned by Faith and had to eat Buffy to stay alive..." Am I going to have to drink-"  
  
" No, you won't. This is... different." He said quickly. " You're sick with something that was brought on by a...spell."  
  
God, if I had a nickel for every time that's happened to me. I swear about a million spells have been casted on me; first my immortality, then my vampirism, this...whatever has happened to me, and about a thousand other things. I looked around the white room, why was everything so god damned white? " What's the cure?" I said, sooner I get rid of this, the sooner I can kill the person or persons who did this too me.  
  
" The...researchers at this hospital haven't come across a case like yours. They're used to demons missing parts of their bodies, not a sick vampire; they're still trying to find the cure."  
  
Oh God, that meant that there probably wasn't even a cure. My eyes started to burn once more, and I closed them briefly. But wait; did Angel just say 'hospital'? That couldn't have been right. " What hospital?" I asked.  
  
" You're in a demonic ward of the hospital. There are more demons in this town than you think, Zoey." Angel said, with a bit of dry laughter.  
  
I smiled and looked out the open door of my room, there were nurses catering to demons of all kinds as human and some inhuman doctors walked by chatting quietly among themselves. A few sirens went off without any warning, and I winced as they impaired my sight once more. I looked out the open door to see why the sirens had gone off; a stretcher suddenly wheeled into view, a human-like demon with a green face, covered in blue spikes on it was convulsing as if it was going through a seizure. " It's Doyle." I said simply.  
  
Angel turned around quickly, and also saw the demon. " It is." Were the only words he said. Angel stood up quickly, letting go of my hand, he put his hand in my direction, as he looked the other way. " Zoey, stay here. You'll be okay...just..." He said before he ran from my hospital room.  
  
My head pounded more fiercely as I closed my burning eyes to sleep...  
  
  
  
I stood on a large rock cliff over looking the Irish Sea. The moonlight glowed over the sea, erupting splashes of white water as it exploded on the rocks below. I took a step towards the end of the cliff; smaller rocks rolled off, and fell into the sea silently. Looking farther out to sea, a small pod of dolphins jumped gracefully into the air, covered in a white glaze of moonlight. I smiled, "Home."  
  
I took another step towards the water and looked downwards into the churning sea. It was beautiful. Then, I jumped out, in a perfect dive formation; and fell gracefully to the water below. The wind rippled through me as I picked up more speed, the water came closer and closer.  
  
I hit the water with a small splash, it was cold, but somehow that didn't seem to matter much. Small schools of fish all different colors swam around me, and I smiled delightfully. I didn't have to worry about taking a breath; oxygen was a worthless thing to me. Suddenly, the fish darted away, swimming as fast as they could away from me. Why were they leaving?   
  
A small dot formed 30 feet away in the ocean, that came closer and closer. What the hell is that? Is it coming towards me? The dot formed into a human shape as it glided in the water towards me. It was human, a girl about Buffy's age, very historical looking; with white lines painted across her face and her hair fixed in dreadlocks. She was definitely not familiar.  
  
The girl came closer and closer even still, then I noticed in her hand was a stake, a very sharp stake. She is definitely not the friendliest of people. I turned the other way and swam as fast as I could; a hand unexpectedly grabbed my foot and pulled with all their might. I pulled up towards the surface, kicking the person off my foot. I succeeded, the hand released and I made a mad dash to the surface.  
  
I gasped for air as I broke the surface out of bad habit. I wasn't in the Irish Sea anymore; there was a ceiling above me, and the smell of..ugh God, the stench of chlorine. It smelled awful. Small beams of light bounced off the indigo water and covered the ceiling. A pool, I was in a pool-but why? I swam quietly to the edge, and pulled myself up and out of the water and stood up. I was covered in water and felt like a drowned rat...suddenly, I was dry. Interesting and very useful, that should happen more often.  
  
Then oddly enough, I heard voices from a room nearby. Oh, goodie, maybe I get to eat something now. I needed to eat something terribly; and I morphed my face.  
  
" I don't know...what do you think we should do Adam?" A familiar voice said.   
  
The voice was so familiar, I'm sure it belonged to someone I had met in Sunnydale. Maybe it was even someone I had for dinner. I walked down a hallway and came to a room where the voices were coming from. I walked inside and saw to my amazement who it was.  
  
Riley, a human Adam and..." Lindsey?" I said. Lindsey, the very hot lawyer guy from Wolfram & Hart stood by a table examing his right...stump where a hand was. Someone had cut off Lindsey's right hand; oh, how dare they. If I find the person who did," What happened to your hand?"  
  
All three guys turned and acknowledged my presence," Zoey, I think you know the answer to that." Lindsey said.  
  
I shook my head in confusion, "No, I don't, what happened?" It was sad, deeply so. Lindsey's loss of a limb has basically dropped him two or three points on the hot list. What a pity.  
  
" That's not important." Riley answered. He stood up from a chair he had been sitting in and walked towards me. He carried a small black briefcase in his right hand. At least Riley did have a hand, that was good. " I'm joining Wolfram & Hart, what about that?"  
  
Riley. Joining. Wolfram & Hart. Oh, please, that is a good one. Riley, the typical American boy joining the devious and untruthful law firm. It was unthinkable-like cats mating with dogs or something. " Right, Riley, just because the Initiative went...down, doesn't mean that you have to become a lawyer, you could join the army. Yeah! You can even keep your uniform, and that way you can still be Idaho Potato Boy."  
  
Riley got a blank look on his face, the same look Angel gives me when I do something wrong. But, what now? I haven't eaten in a long time, and I'm sure I didn't say anything like "damn Initiative soldiers". " I'm from Iowa-not Idaho."  
  
Oh, well I guess that would be the problem then wouldn't it? But, Idaho, Iowa, same difference, I can never tell the stupid American states apart. I looked out the door at the other end of the room, there stood a girl with blonde hair. She didn't look familiar either. Too many unknown people! Grr. Arg. " Who are you?" I called across the room, ignoring Riley, Lindsey and Adam.  
  
The girl didn't say a word; she nodded then ran from the door opening. I chased after her, maybe she could tell me what the hell is going on here. Or, maybe she's one of the Aborigine girl's friends, not a good thing to think about. I looked to the left, then to the right. Now, where did she go? I bared my teeth and growled in frustration.  
  
Suddenly the blonde girl appeared out of nowhere, she stepped up to me invading my space. She didn't seem at all afraid of my vampiric features, and that deeply pissed me off. "You won't always be on top of the world, Zoey. There will come a time when even you cannot keep your head above the water. Then you will learn what it is to be afraid."  
  
Tons of water poured from above, showering me. Soon, the whole room was filled with water; and I swam desperately towards the surface. The situation had gone from interesting to well, non-interesting, to down right dangerous.  
  
My head snapped back as a man in scuba gear showed up right in my face. In his hands were...two slices of cheddar cheese, which he dangled in my face with a smile cast upon his face. Interesting, but mildly disturbing. I swam away from the man with the cheese and up towards where light began to penetrate the water.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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